


Dreamscape

by Kim Gasper (mickeym)



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-08-16
Updated: 1999-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/Kim%20Gasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duncan has what seems like a really odd dream. But is it only a dream?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreamscape

From somewhere off in the distance he heard his name being called.

He wasn't certain of how far; nothing seemed quite real in this place. Everything appeared ethereal, foggy. Curtains of lacy, not-quite-white haze surrounded him, falling over his eyes and covering his face, making him feel stifled and yet freer, somehow.

"Can you hear me?"

It was a treasured voice. Loved and cherished, and it meant so many things to him. Love, friendship, trust and security. Comfort. Above all, he was comfortable, when the dark, rich tones washed over him. Where was he? Where were *they*? Dimly it occurred to him he needed to respond, and he tried, oh, God, he tried. His lips formed words; he could taste the name on his tongue.

Nothing emerged.

He tried again, failing this time as well. He fussed at the cobwebs and lace holding him, binding him now, trying to get free and not succeeding.

The sense of freedom became a sense of imprisonment.

"Duncan--can you hear me?"

The voice was so close, he fancied he could almost reach out and touch it. Maybe if he reached with thought, rather than action, he would succeed.

_Methos?_

_You're here!_

_Where is this place?_

_Don't you recognize it?_

In truth, he didn't. With one hand he pushed the haze from his eyes, peering around, trying to see his friend, his lover; trying to see where they were. Defeated, unable to keep the suffocating whiteness away from his eyes any longer, Duncan let it fall back to cover his sight.

_No. I don't. I can't see anything to help me._

_You don't need sight, Highlander. You need to feel where you are. Do you see me?_

_No._

_Do you feel me? You can hear me, yes?_

_Inside my mind. I can sense you there._

_So you can see me, and hear me, inside yourself. Can you hear me, if you listen with something besides your ears, or your mind?_

He wasn't entirely certain he understood what was being asked. What was he looking for? What else would he listen with? The cobwebs got thicker, holding him tighter. Closing in on him.

_I can hardly hear you, Methos! Are you still out there?_

_Always here, Duncan. Listen...inside yourself. Use all parts of yourself. Can you hear me with your heart?_

The words were faint; so quiet, so softly-spoken, that Duncan wasn't certain he could hear them at all--not with his ears, anyway.

But his heart...

He stopped his struggling against the fibers that seemed to be cutting into him, they were so tight on his skin, and listened, intently. Soft, very low at first, then gathering a strong, steady beat, he heard it. Methos' heartbeat. It grew louder, leveling off into a regular, thumping sound, echoing through him, filling all parts of him.

_I hear you!_

_Where am I?_

_You're beside me. You always have been, haven't you._ He offered the last almost accusingly, more of a statement than a question. He could almost hear the smile spreading over Methos' face; the warmth of it seemed to seep through the coldness of the impenetrable fog covering him.

_Not impenetrable, Duncan. All that's separating you from me now...is you. You can hear me in your heart--maybe you can see me, if you open your eyes._

_They're bound closed,_ he protested softly, testing that. He could feel the warmth on the other side of the gauze-like stuff, and wanted so badly to get past it. What was holding it there?

_Fear,_ the quiet voice inside his heart, his mind, offered. _Fear is holding you bound. Fear of me, fear of you. We're so alike, and so different, it's hard to imagine we could make this work._

_I thought you were the one who's supposed to be afraid. The one who shies away. _He could hear the hint of laughter in his words, even as he asked a question without words.

_I am afraid. Afraid of loving you, afraid of losing you. Afraid of not loving you. Love gives us the power to do anything; fear gives us the power to destroy everything. Do you love, Highlander? You know you fear--but do you love?_

_You know I do._ No teasing this time. This was real; very, very real. He shivered with emotion, unable to think the words without feeling them.

_It's hard, isn't it? To get past the fear, and into the other. Hard to let those emotions in, because they're so strong._ Duncan started when a warm hand grasped his. He looked down, expecting to see something, and growled with frustration when the whiteness blinded him, held him, stopped him.

The hand squeezed his, offering him silent support.

_This isn't just a dream, is it._ Was he stalling? Hoping to just...slide past? Possibly.

Warmth filtered through the coolness of the webs holding him, seeping through his pores, filling him with the same joy that he'd felt with the first whisper of Methos' voice inside him.

_No._ There was a pause, then more warmth flooded him, making him feel like he was glowing. _I do love you, Highlander._

That gave him the extra support he needed. The extra warmth, the extra strength. 'Love gives us the power to do anything.' He could break free of these bonds holding him, by reaching out with his love, with himself.

_You're in my heart, Methos. You are my heart. Everything I feel, everything I think, all of me. You are me. And I love you._

The surge of freedom as the cobwebs dissolved, and the haze lifted from his eyes nearly staggered him. If he hadn't been lying down, he might've fallen. As it was he shuddered, jumping slightly. The man lying beside him shifted and grumbled.

"You going to squirm all night? A guy has to get some sleep, y'know."

"Methos--" He hardly dared breathe the word as he looked around. They were lying spooned together in bed, blankets all askew around them. His arms were around the other man, his knee pressing between Methos' legs. Nothing had changed from just a little bit ago, when they'd tumbled into bed, too tired to do more than that.

_Was it all just a dream? It felt so real._ The fear, the hidden bindings, the power and rush of sensation when he admitted to his fear, and to his love for this man. He kissed the soft spot behind Methos' ear, then whispered quietly, "thank you."

Methos squirmed against him. "Welcome, but save it 'til morning, Mac. Some of us are trying to sleep here."

"I love you," he whispered again, hardly stirring the air, letting the words ghost over the curve of Methos' ear. He stroked his fingers gently up and down Methos' torso, pausing over the wide, full mouth, with its narrow lips. One finger touched, tracing the outline, and his own mouth curved generously when he realized Methos was smiling.

The words echoed inside him, and this time Duncan didn't stop to wonder if he heard with his ears, or with his heart.

He knew which it was.

~Finis~


End file.
